Walk by Me
by The Nutty One
Summary: Sometimes love is too strong for even death to conquer. Damon and Katherine perish in a freak accident in 1864, only for Katherine to be reincarnated as Elena Gilbert - a ghost hunter - more than a century later. But Damon's spirit is trapped at sea; forever destined to be a ghost. When the two meet, only Damon can remember their past. And soon old rivalries begin to rise again.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**11****th**** September 1864**

I stared at the small lump of black stone in my hand. It was my birthday but I felt no need to celebrate it. Not when I didn't get what I most wanted. What I needed. Before you get any ideas, I'm not some snobby brat that cries because they didn't get the dress they wanted. All I wanted was my father's permission, permission to let me marry Damon.

Damon Salvatore wasn't like me. He isn't like my family. Not in the way that he was physically different, because he isn't. He has ten toes, ten fingers, laughs at good jokes and scoffs at bad ones. But he wasn't of the same status. Damon was a stable boy, a groom. But what made it worse, was the fact that he worked for my father. So father knew what he earned, and he thought that Damon wasn't good enough for me.

Why would father want his daughter - a proud member of the Gilbert family - to marry a lower class man? A stable boy at that? One that couldn't afford her? That was his argument anyway. He wanted me to marry someone who could bring something to the family, like Klaus Mikaelson who was about to take over the bank. At least that way two strong families united, would make one stronger family.

It was all about status.

Breaking my gaze away from the midnight coloured rock, I glimpsed down into the waves below. Maybe, just maybe, father was warming to Damon. After all, it had been Damon who had managed to pay for the cruise and for the thirty guests to accompany us. How long it took him to save that amount of money up, I don't know. He never told me. I knew he wanted it to be just the two of us to go on the cruise. But we knew that wouldn't happen. No one let an unmarried pair go anywhere on their own. Nobody trusted them...

I could see my reflection in the dark twilight of the Agate gemstone that I held. Chocolate brown hair hung in ringlets around my shoulders, finishing just half an inch above the blue silk dress that my mother had bought me as a gift. It puffed out at the hips and hung off my shoulders exposing my alabaster skin. My brown eyes prickled with tears at the thought that I could be married to Klaus Mikaelson in less than a month.

"Katherine Gilbert, Katherine Gilbert." It was the only voice that could be rough and smooth at the same time. Just by the voice I knew who it was. I didn't need a second guess.

"Damon." The name flowed freely from my lips and I felt myself smile despite of what I was feeling. Forcing the tears back, I reminded myself that I had to be strong. If not then I might as well just hand myself over to Klaus. Being weak wasn't going to help me be with Damon.

The few lines had begun when we were strolling through the park one day when Damon suddenly started saying my name. To the end he started to tag his own surname to the end of my own, which made me smile. When he paused I added my own line. The problem was that it only went with my maiden name. We'd have to come up with a new one when we were married. If we got married.

Slowly I spun around, the dress frills following closely behind. Putting the small gem in my pocket, I smiled slightly when I saw him. His black hair stuck to his forehead in a dishevelled mess thanks to the attacking sea mist that clung to everything as if it were a coat. Two sea blue eyes watched me closely as I took a step forward. As I began to move forward I watched as a tanned hand reached out to me.

Patiently I waited in the middle of the deck, not caring when he playfully grumbled. He walked over - a prominent limp to his right side from when he was kicked by a horse a few months ago - his smile never fading. Damon looked older than his nineteen years; constantly being in and out of the stables had weathered him and given him a light tan.

His boots thudded loudly on the wooden deck as he walked towards me. The black tux he was wearing was worn and looked like it had been passed down from generation to generation. "You'll catch your death out here." I shrugged, I'd been out here for at least half an hour and I'd grown numb to the chilling air.

But when he rested his worn hands on my shoulders I felt the warmth seep through me, almost burning my bones. "You're freezing, come on in." Damon probably didn't know he was doing it, but his voice was like a fishing rod. It lured me in and when it caught me, I was helpless. It made me go weak at the knees.

"Not before I dance with you." I stopped as he interrupted me by saying we could dance inside. "Away from prying eyes." He smirked and shook his head slightly, then sighed.

"You'll be the death of me," Damon muttered though he made no move to go back inside. Instead he lifted one of my hands in his own, and put his other on my hip. It felt natural when I placed my other hand on his shoulder - finishing the position.

Slowly he started to move around on the deck, his movements controlled and precise. Many a time I teased him as to whether he practiced in the stables when no one was looking. Damon just scoffed and shook his head. He wasn't a man of many words. To most he appeared cold, distant and uncaring. But once I got under that layer of protection, he was a completely different person.

We tried to outdo one another with our foot work as we flittered across the damp deck. Around us the sky darkened, and the waves crashed over the side of the ship. The damp sea mist hugged us, moving with us. If only father saw how we were meant to be together. That not even _death_ would keep us apart.

As we laughed; the thunder and lightning chuckled with us, lighting up the night sky with its laughter. We quickened our pace, content to make up our own beat. We shared our passion, our desire to be together in that one dance.

It wasn't only the sea mist that had begun to join us, the heavens had opened and the slight pattering of rain sounded around us. "I think I will heed your warning," I stated before he took my hand and led me along the slippery deck.

Heads turned and suspicious glances were thrown our way as we came in. Through their eyes they saw a saturated couple, their clothes hanging off their shoulders and their hair messy and falling out of place. In their eyes there was only one thing we could have done...

I saw father and mother chatting to my grandparents, the only ones that seemed to find goodness in Damon and I's relationship. Jeremy - my older brother - had to stay behind to watch over the estate and make sure everything was running smoothly, and it was better that way. He already had a wife and two children of his own, so he had no time to spare.

Damon rested his hand on the small of my back, ignoring the murderous glares that were thrown our way. The only smiles we got were when we passed the table my parents and grandparents were sat at. And for once I got a smile from father and he even managed a 'hello' and a small nod to Damon. Normally when he saw Damon and I together, his bitter side would come out and he wouldn't talk to neither of us until Damon had left. But maybe this was him changing, Maybe Damon's good nature was slowly winning him over.

As we pushed through the dance floor, I took in the main area of the boat. It was the first time I had been in here; Damon had made a tremendous effort in keeping me away from here. Three chandeliers hung from the roof, stretching in a diagonal line across the roof of the hall. On the floor was a rich red carpet that surrounded the large wooden dance floor. Tables were dotted about on the red carpet, two or four chairs surrounding them. In one corner of the hall was the orchestra that played a slow, deep waltz. Opposite them was the long dining table that over flowed with a vibrant rainbow of foods.

Damon handed me one of the plates along with a set of silverware. "You've got to be hungry," he paused when he saw my face. "You haven't eaten all day," he added quickly as if to back up his comment. As we walked along, I picked up a few slices of pork with the tongs that laid at the edges of the plate to quieten his worries. Scooping up a few carrots onto my plate, I discreetly kicked one that had fallen onto the floor under the table. No one need no...

"What was up with that one?" I laughed and shook my head before heading over to a small two chaired table in the corner. Somehow Damon seemed to beat me there, and pulled my chair out for me with his foot. Thanking him, I sat down and placed the plate down on the white placemat.

I gestured to the bottle of champagne that sat innocently in the middle of the table. "You, or me?" I asked, my eye brow raised as I waited for his reply.

"You," Damon paused. "If you want to that is," he added slowly. Smiling at him, I reached for the neck of the bottle. Pressing my thump to the cork, I added pressure. With a satisfied '_pop_' the cork flew out, narrowly missing one of the chandeliers. All heads turned to face us, some tutting at our antics.

I blushed but looked them all in the eye. No matter where we sat they could see us. Couldn't we get _any_ privacy?

Turning back to Damon I frowned when I saw his empty seat. Was he a ghost or something? How could he move so quietly? Turning back to my plate, I sighed and looked at the back of the empty chair in front of me.

Someone cleared their throat near me, making me jump slightly. Turning around in my chair, my eyes widened when they settled on the figure in front of me.

Damon was on one knee in front of me. His green eyes sparkled with hope as he looked me in the eye. The orchestra had finished their music and everyone had turned once again to see us. In one hand was a closed black velvet box, his other hand resting on the lid of the box.

"You've walked by me, though thick and thin. And now I want to do the same for you." Damon stopped talking and I could see his eyes turn glossy with unshed tears. "Will you be the honour of being my wife? Will you, Katherine Gilbert, marry me?"

My whole world seemed to stop. Everything seemed to freeze. I glanced around the hall, my gaze locking on Klaus Mikaelson and his murderous glare. But he didn't matter. Quickly I stole a quick look at my parents. Surprisingly their faces were lit up with joy, their eyes alight with acceptance. But they didn't matter.

All that mattered was the man in front of me; the man that was growing more nervous by the second. "Can I have your answer, please? I don't know how long my knees will last," he said and a few people within ear shot had a hard time muffling their laughter. Damon fidgeted as I turned my eyes back to him.

"Yes," I whispered, though his confused expression told me he hadn't heard. "Yes!" I shouted as the hall erupted in cheers and the clanking of glasses. As Damon stood - relief plastered on his face - I practically threw myself at him. His arms circled me in a strong embrace, one that felt warm and welcoming. It felt right.

I never wanted him to let go, and I never wanted to let go. It felt so right, within his arms I felt safe. As if nothing could harm us. We were complete and nothing could tear us apart. If it did, somehow we would find a way to be together again. Even if it killed us. "Yes, I'll walk by you."

His smile was vibrant and the hall seemed to glow with his happiness. "Oh, the ring." He pushed the small box into my hand. "I want you to be the one to open it." My fingers unconsciously glided over the smooth black box, only to stop and pinch the front of the box.

Just as the small click rang around the boat, a loud groaning noise came from somewhere deep within the ships walls. At first everyone ignored it and continued to stare at us. But then it happened again. Though this time, it was accompanied by a small trickle of water running though the main door. That's when it all started.

The once happy couples erupted into screams, everybody fighting one another to escape. Quickly Damon looked about him, his eyes wide with fright. "Oh, God, no!" It was the first time I had heard him take the Lord's name in vain, and I knew it was no laughing matter.

Damon pushed me forward roughly towards the food table. Behind us the screaming couples continued to scream and cry for their loved ones. Taking one backward glance I saw that the orchestra continued to play despite the obvious fear in their eyes. They were going to play till the end. "Run!" I screamed at them, though they all shook their heads.

How had this happened? How had such a perfect evening turn into such a disaster? In front of me Damon kicked at a latched door though it wouldn't budge. His movements became desperate as he continued to throw himself - shoulder first - into the door. It was hard to hear the wood shatter over the ships groaning, but as soon as a small splinter was made we clawed desperately at the wood.

With bloody hands we attacked the door, staining it with streaks of red. Taking a last resort Damon stepped back a few paces, before bracing himself and taking a running leap at the door.

The wood shattered, only to reveal a set of stairs that leads down to the trunk of the ship. Damon lay in a painful position at the bottom of the stairs, his leap having taken him further than what he had expected. With heels clacking on the creaking wooden steps, I trotted down them.

"Damon, come on! Wake up." I patted his cheek, hoping to bring him around. "Damon?" I asked, hoping for some sort of response. He groaned, but his eyes still stayed shut. Hooking his arm around my shoulders, I hoisted him up. My legs nearly buckled under his weight; though he doesn't appear to weigh much, he does.

After taking all of five steps, he unhooked his arm and stumbled forward on his own accord. We sloshed through the water that came up to our ankles. Exposed pipes lined the walls, little shoots of water breaking through many of them. Closing our eyes against the spray, I tried not to panic as the water began to quickly rise.

Many a time we stumbled into things and burnt our legs on the heating pipes. The web of pipes made our work slow and tiring, and soon the water came up to our knees. Darkness enveloped us, cornering us, trapping us. The only thing that stopped me from losing him was the tight hold on his hand that I gripped like a life line.

I could feel the fear becoming too much and I felt the tears begin to fall. They silently trekked down my cheeks creating a silent path of despair. Even as I tried to make myself believe, I knew we wouldn't make it out together. I knew we wouldn't make it out alive.

But still I pushed on.

Eventually we came to another set of steps, this time leading up towards the middle of the ship. Damon pressed me forward, letting me lead, letting me go in front. Possibly letting me escape first. Our feet pounded on the ancient wood creating resounding, hollow sounds that echoed around the empty trunk of the ship.

Even as we ran up the stairs the water was quicker. It lapped at our knees, never backing down nor resting for second. I gripped the railings that ran up the sides of the steps as the ship leaned to the left. Behind me I heard the wooden cargo crates slid across the floor, splintering when they crashed into the side of the boat.

A small seed of hope planted itself within my mind as I neared the top of the stairs. My legs ached as the cold water brutally numbed them, turning them into lead weights.

As my foot hit the second to last step I felt, instead of heard, the wood give way. I screamed as I felt the wood shatter beneath me. Somehow my fingertips grasped hold of the step in front of me, though the water quickly rose to cover my shoulders. Damon had hold of my left arm in a vice like grip. "Leave me!" My shouts were desperate though drowned out by the noise of the water.

"No! I'm not going to leave you!" I stretched my neck as much as I could as the water threatened to go over my head, covering me for good. Damon's eyes burned with a fury, as he gripped my right hand in his own as well. Now I was completely dependent on him. If he let go then I would sink. I would drown. I would die.

Our eyes locked and only then did I see the guilt that ate away from him. He thought it was his fault. He planned the cruise so he took the guilt upon himself. But before I could say anything to him, he heaved and slowly I felt it become easier to breath. As he pulled me up, I ignored the way his rough hands pulled at my wrists, leaving behind angry red welts.

When I felt the stairs underneath my feet, I sunk to the floor with my eyes closed. I felt no need to see into the looming depths that hunted us down. We were the prey and the sea was the hunter. Damon lifted me to my feet and guided me over the broken step. Not taking any chances, we didn't linger on them for too long.

At the top of the steps was a thin, frail looking door that had been left slightly ajar and allowed a thin strip of light to flash out across the wide expanse of water. Ushering me through, Damon shut the door behind us with a defiant bang. Here the water was slightly lower, the water having only come to mid-thigh. But still, it was enough to worry about.

The lights were bright and I felt my eyes prickle with moisture as I tried to blink away the blinding light. Damon was the same, his breath coming in short gasps. Not speaking to each other, we quietly splashed our way through the corridor that led to the deck. Each wall was lined with doors, each with small golden numbers painted on the left hand side.

Where the corridor turned I got the sudden feeling that I shouldn't go around that corner. Digging my heels into the soaking carpet I came to an abrupt halt. Not watching where he was going, Damon ran straight into me, sending us both sprawling to the floor. I spluttered for breath as the water temporarily came over my head. Thankfully I managed to push my head above the water as it now came to waist height. Time was running out.

Pushing the feeling of dread to the back of my mind, I urged myself forward with the newfound courage. Damon followed closely behind me, his breath ragged on the back of my neck.

When I rounded the corner I came to a sight worse than any nightmare I had ever had. Worse than anything that was imaginable. Because it wasn't imaginable. No one could have thought of something of this scale. At least a dozen bodies floated on the water, their eyes staring glassily forward.

They all seemed to be looking at me, accusing me. I felt their souls pressing down on me. With every breath I took it felt like I was drowning. Even though nothing was _physically_ attacking me, my arms failed about, striking out at anything in their way. My breathing came in short pants, the oxygen seeming to get stuck somewhere in my throat. Around me I imagined their bodies coming to life, surrounding us. "Get away!" I screamed at them, as I kicked and punched at the imaginary foes.

"Katherine! Katherine! Calm down. They're not going to hurt you!" A gruff voice broke through the cloud of haunting nightmares. Two rough hands held my own behind my back while my breathing calmed. "Yeah, that's it. Breathe with me. Deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth."

Slowly I felt myself becoming me again. The souls of the dead seeming to just vanish. Instead I was left with the site of the bodies, broken, battered and beaten. But one stood out amongst the rest. The red ribbon tied so neatly into the bun at the back of her hair.

"Mother!" Damon released my hands, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold me back if I didn't want to be held. I ran through the water, the realisation having given me more strength to carry on. Her unseeing eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling and her nose was broken in several places.

It was easy to see and it was easy to spot. The dead bodies had been trampled on in people's haste to find their own freedom. In hope to save their own life, they took someone else's. Now I knew that, I began looking for the tell-tale signs of a struggle. The smashed doors, the pieces of wood that floated aimlessly amongst the dead and even a metal pole seemed to be part sinking and part floating.

Unthreading the red ribbon from her hair, I pushed it deep into my dress pocket along with the velvet box.

"We've got to keep moving. Your mother wouldn't have wanted you to waste your life." His words were true, yet I couldn't find no solace in them. How could I leave my mother to sink? How could I leave her body here? How could I let her be taken by the waves?

"The waves have already taken her." Was I talking out loud? "Yes. Now move!" Damon commanded, his cold, ruthless side being exposed. His words were like a fiery whip; they cracked and sent me stumbling through the water that had since risen to my shoulders.

As we pushed further through the water, the lights began to flicker on and off as the power supply dramatically drained. No longer could we hear the orchestra, no doubt they were long gone now. Either the fear got the better of them or the waves got the better of them.

We barrelled forward, pushing anything in our way to the side. Be that dead bodies, or floating objects we paid them no heed. It became harder to move as the slim corridor filled with more water. Every door we passed we opened, hoping that it would slow the rise of the water if it had somewhere else to fill.

"Just remember this, I love you," Damon murmured though it was contorted by his ragged breathing. For some reason I couldn't find the three little words to send back to him, they seemed to have just vanished. But it wasn't just that; I couldn't find a _reason_ to be able to send them back. It scared me. Was it because I knew we were going to die? Or was it because somewhere, deep down, I blamed him? Did I unconsciously blame him for all this?

"Love you too." I managed, though they came out in a strangled half whisper. I could feel the confusion and sadness roll off him, but most of all was the crippling wave of rejection. It was more forceful than any of the waves that threatened us. It was more forceful than anything I had ever felt. "Damon, I'm sorry." I finished in a lame, half-hearted attempt to gain forgiveness. He didn't answer. Instead he pulled me through the water by my wrist.

As we got closer to the end of the corridor, I knew why he had said that he loved me. It wasn't normally like him to say something like that out of the blue; he only said it in times when it was needed. But now I knew why. And now I know why he felt like he did.

A large steel door stood in our way, much like the ones you saw on the insides of a submarine. It was jarred open by only a thin flimsy piece of wood that could snap any minute.

"Go!" Damon bellowed, his voice high-pitched from desperation. He shoved me forward with so much force that he nearly propelled me forward a few meters.

Self-preservation took over and I ran on pure instinct. I'd lost my heels in the water some time ago so my bare feet slipped on the saturated carpet. Short, shallow breaths that held no purpose escaped my open lips. Behind me Damon shouted encouragement, and when I slowed he would drag me along.

Up ahead I saw the wood beginning to bend, and heard the slight creaking as it lost the battle with the door. Damon caught it just before the lock clicked shut. His hands, slick with his own blood, had trouble gripping the smooth metal door. I could see his veins protruding slightly from his skin as he fought a losing battle to keep the door open. He strained against the door, keeping it only inches away from fully closing.

"Go!" he commanded, his strong voice slicing swiftly through the sounds of the waves. The whites of his eyes were visible, and as large as a frightened colt's. "Go!" he repeated; his voice harsher than the last time.

The water came up to our shoulders and spilled freely through the open door. It compressed on my chest, seeming to paralyze everything it touched. "Katherine! Go! Please!" A battle raged in his eyes, hope and defeat locked in combat. But why? I had no idea. And that's what caused my body to unfreeze.

I squeezed myself through the diminishing gap, thrilled when I saw the dim moonlight coming down the stairs that lead to the deck. "Why, Damon, we've...we've made it!" I spun around, for once not caring as the water lapped at my body as the ship groaned around us. But as I spun around I knew something wasn't right.

Damon stood behind the door, and I saw a desolate look of acceptance line his features. In that moment he seemed to age, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He looked like a thirty year old man; not the nineteen year old boy he was. The pressure had wizened him like a raisin. His black hair seemed to lose its shine and his tan didn't glisten. Nothing was the same. And it never would be again.

"No!" The metal door clanged shut, its sound vibrating, mocking me as it travelled. "No!" I repeated, as I landed a flurry of useless punches on the metal door. I pulleded against the door though I knew it was no good. To my horror the water began to rise quicker, having nowhere else to go now the door had closed. It had no escape. And neither did Damon.

The water welled up to his chin, and I watched as his eyes filled with fear. "I love you!" Damon's voice was faint - the thick glass of the small window stopping it. Squinting through my tears, I tried to make out his figure through the condensation that had built up on the glass.

Damon made no move to try and escape, instead he just stood with his hands clutching the sides of the door for support. His blue eyes pleaded with me and told me something I couldn't do. Deep within them I could see the desperation that they held.

Doing the only thing I could think of to console him, I pressed my lips to the thick, clear glass that enabled me to watch as his hour came. At first the glass was cold, just a lonely, single sheet of glass that held the world from me. But even though I didn't open my eyes, I could feel the warmth begin to seep through me. Even though my lips still met the coldness of the glass, I could imagine the heat that would flow through us. If it weren't for the fact that the heat was imaginary, I could have thought that perhaps we were in a different place. That we weren't on a ship that was sinking somewhere in the middle of the ocean.

To think that we were laughing, joking and dancing earlier today. How things could change so drastically, I don't know. I don't want to know. For the first time since leaving the crowded masses, could I make out some of the cries from the ones still trapped on the boat. They screamed and yelled for their loved ones, but no reply came. Along with me, they cried into the darkness.

Finally I opened my eyes, only to shut them straight away. I couldn't watch him die. In that short amount of time the water had risen to just under his nose, covering his mouth. Damon craned his head back, desperate to be able to breathe. I knew just as much as he knew that he would die.

With my tears flowing freely, I pounded on the glass as I tried to get him to look at me. Just as the water rose over his nose, he turned. He seemed to have calmed for he his breathing had slowed and the whites of his eyes were no longer visible. Only the dying flames of acceptation flickered in his eyes; an image that would haunt me for as long as I lived.

And then he ducked under the water. No, the water didn't pull him under; he went under _willingly_. Standing on my tip toes I peered through the small glass window, hoping that he may have seen somewhere that he could escape from. Instead what I saw chilled me to the bone. Damon was taking in the water.

"No! Damon! Don't you dare!" My throbbing, bleeding hands left red stains on the glass as I watched him die. Somehow he must have heard my flurry of hits on the door for he whirled around, his eyes bloodshot from the salty water.

"I love you!" he said, taking in more water as he did. "Now go!" Damon repeated his favourite words, all while taking in more of the salty water. And then it dawned on me. He wanted to die quicker, in hopes that I would leave sooner when he died.

Damon loved me, and his dying wish was to see me turn my back and run. Turning on my heel, the last thing I saw were his eyes rolling back into his head and his body go limp.

I ran up the steps without a backward glance. I knew that if I did, then I wouldn't be able to move from that spot. For the first time since we came from the trunk of the ship, I could feel the vibrations that shook the ship. They ran through the wooden deck, making it hard to run without stumbling to the side.

The ship groaned in detest as it leaned to the side once again. People clung to the railings while the waves plucked them off one by one. They tumbled down the deck, their cries for help following them until those cries turned to screams as they rolled into the water.

The waves crashed over the side of the boat, pulling those near the edge back down with them. They were relentless, not sparing anyone within their reach. Watery fingers snaked across the wooden deck, plucking and picking off the unfortunate people. As they reared their ugly heads, people screamed and pushed others aside, desperate to find somewhere safe to stay. But the truth was, there wasn't any where safe to stay.

Grasping the cold metal railings that lined the decking, I clung to them as the next wave crashed over the boat. My hair stuck to my face creating a network of webs that in another situation would be tantalising. When the waves retreated, I saw three bodies it had taken floating on the top of the ocean. Dead; their skulls cracked from colliding with the boat as they tumbled.

Bracing myself for when I would hit the icy water, I took a running leap over the railings. It was the best I could do, after all, I would die anyway when the ship sank. It was better to have died trying than to have died without.

Once I hit the dark waters, the breath I had been holding in escaped with a sudden gust of air. The chilling waters took my breath away as I tried to find the surface. Everything was so dark. There was no indication as to what might be the way to the surface, or might be the way to the bottom. But still I pushed on.

Wriggling out of my dress - and pulling the Agate stone and ring from my pocket - I was amazed at how much quicker I could swim without the added weight. Granted it was nothing compared to the speed I would need to reach shore alive, but it was a start. The waves compressed on my chest making it even harder to breathe than what it already was. Even though I had only been in the water for less than a minute; I felt the numbing coldness begin to seep through my bones.

I gasped loudly as I broke the surface of the water. Wasting no time, I began to swim away from the boat, now whether that was towards land, or away from land, I don't know. All I knew was that I had to get away. If not then the sinking of the boat would pull me under.

Closing my eyes tightly against the battering mists and waves, I swam. At first my progress was slow but as I got into the rhythm I quickened. As I swam, I thought of mother and father, both of which were probably dead. Even though I hadn't seen father I knew he wouldn't have left mother willingly. They would have drowned together. Unlike Damon and I.

Damon. His name brought a physical ache to my chest. Even as he died I couldn't bring myself to say the three words. Over and over I could say them in my mind, but that's where they stayed. They didn't go any further. They got lodged in my throat. Even when he quickened his upcoming death, I couldn't find them. I couldn't say them.

But it was because of that, that I knew I had to carry on. That I couldn't just stop and give up the fight. Damon wouldn't have wanted that, he would have wanted me to fight until I could fight no more. Even then he probably wouldn't be happy. Because in the end I died, I didn't survive. But even if I got to shore, and died then, I would be happy. At least someone would find me, and I wouldn't just get eaten by the fishes like the rest of the people on board.

My legs kicked out behind me, splashing the water far behind, but only propelling me forward a mere half a meter. It was an army. The waves were my foes and I was the only one on my side. I felt lost and alone, just a tiny blip on the radar amongst the dozens of dead.

Even though I didn't want to give the fight up, my body had other ideas. My limbs seem to lock from the coldness and my head hurt from the constant thrashing of the waves.

Then the Agate stone started to glow. It was an eerie midnight blue at first, though it was a far cry from the coal black that it had been. It seemed to pulse with energy and throbbed in my fingertips.

The subtle changes started on the palm of my hand where the stone currently rested, nestled in my fingers. Heat flowed from the stone, warming up like a furnace. I could feel the heat coming from it though it didn't burn me. If that was due to the coldness of the water I didn't know. But I wasn't about to stop and ask.

Not only heat flowed from the stone. Energy vibrated from it like a pulse, slowly spreading through my body. Along with the heat they created a shock wave, something that seemed to pound my body; heating me up and giving me the energy to fight for longer.

The stone showed no sign of struggling with the energy it was giving out, nor did it cut its power. Instead it held a strong, steady rhythm as it pumped unnatural sources around my body. Much like a heartbeat, it sung in my palm, its energy seemed like a beacon that could attract anything.

Behind me I heard the sea begin to engulf the ship. I could hear the bending, crushing sounds of metal as the water manipulated it to its own shape. The screams of terror quickly vanished as they too, were engulfed. I felt the hypnotizing pull of the waves. I felt their hands trying to rake me back. But still the midnight Agate held strong. It seemed to keep me afloat and stopped me drifting away. Every time I felt myself beginning to lose consciousness, it would send another shock wave through my system, each one more powerful than the last.

I lost track of time. I didn't know whether I had been swimming for mere minutes or days. With a constant supply of energy, that stopped me falling asleep, it was hard to tell. Day and night seemed to merge together. Nothing was defined.

Eventually I saw land. Just a small speck at first, but it was enough to give me hope. The cliffs jutted out into the sea, protecting the small harbour that lay settled in the bay. It was a dark shape that seemed to loom out of the ocean. Lights lit up the small village that was just off the bay.

But I couldn't focus on that. Not when I felt the coldness begin to seep back into my body. In my hand I felt the Agate stone begin to quiver, a dying heart in the palm of my hand. Almost leisurely; it turned from midnight blue back to the original coal black. As it seemed to die in my palm, I felt the sudden loss of energy and heat. My body began to numb once more as the stone gave out.

The outline of the island or maybe even country spurred me on. The thought of at least reaching the shore filled me with an undying hope. I know it was foolish hope. For I knew I would die when I reached shore. The pneumonia was probably setting in now and would finish me as soon as I stepped out of the water. For some reason, I _knew_ that I had to get to shore. That alone drove me on.

My feet glided over the soft silky sand as I stumbled my way up the beach, the first signs of dehydration kicking in. The hunger pains that had so far evaded me - thanks to the Agate - came rushing back. How I had managed to keep hold of the Agate and the velvety black box, I don't know. Somewhere inside me I knew that I owed it to Damon.

Collapsing on the thin strip of sand less than a meter away, I used the last of my strength to open the velvet box. Nestled in a midnight blue velvet cushion, was the ring. It was different, unusual, yet oddly beautiful. The thin gold band was encrusted with tiny pieces of rose quartz crystal, with a thin web of blue sapphires breaking them up.

On the inside of the lid – written in a scruffy silver scrawl were the words:

_**Katherine Gilbert, Katherine Gilbert.**_

_**Will you walk by me?**_

_**Love, Damon**__._

I smiled at the small message, the words even more glamorous than the ring. I didn't know I was slipping. All I knew was that I needed to rest. Giving into the darkness, I looked for Damon.

But he wasn't there…

**Hey up! Hope you all like the new story so far! It's one I've had written a while, and I've just found it again so I've decided to give it a go and see if anyone likes it! This is just the prologue, so more will be explained as we go along! But I hope you all enjoyed this! And your thoughts so far? Keep it, or should it head to the scrap heap?**

**Thanks for reading, and I hope you review! The Nutty One xx**

**PS, it will be Elena and Damon. Katherine is here, as this is the past. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One**

**8****th**** October 2010**

"We don't believe that the house is haunted, but then again we can't say it's not haunted. It's sort of in between. You're walking a tightrope; you either fall off to the paranormal side, or you don't. It's hard to say." I sighed; this was the worst part of the job. To tell someone - that was clearly scared to be in their own home - that their house may be haunted.

Tyler Lockwood cleared his throat. "The spirits that manifest here don't seem to be harmful in anyway. They just want to be heard. As for the slamming of doors, they're possibly residual hauntings where the spirit continues to do things whether you are there or not. We believe that they do this because they are familiar with the action from when they were human."

The woman we were talking to, nodded and gasped as we played back the voices that we had caught on the EVP - the Electronic Voice Phenomena. There were two EVP's, both a friendly male voice saying 'hello'. As Tyler highlighted the area of the voice, I drummed my fingers on the table. Repeatedly the voice played until eventually it sounded mechanic to my ears. He played it through five times until he noticed the slight fear that danced in the woman's eyes.

"But we did manage to de-bunk the vibrations of the floor," I added quickly, smiling to myself when I saw the fear start to ebb. "There's a pipe running through the basement that was loose - our investigator, Matt, fixed this for you - and it would rattle against the wall every time someone used the water. We also kept watch on it and found that even when the water wasn't running; it would come on at two in the morning."

"If you need anything else, just give us a call." Both of us stood, sliding the heavy mahogany chairs under the desk. Shaking hands with the homeowner, we found our own way out. Outside the large black SUV sat trundling idly on the road side. Matt sat in the back, still clicking some of the equipment away.

Behind me I heard my boyfriend of three years shut the door of the house. Tyler joined me as we walked to the SUV. His black hair was gelled into neat spikes, his wide brown eyes watching everything that moved. He was older than what he looked; never once could we go to a club without him getting stopped to be asked his age. Tyler was nineteen, a year older than me, though he looked seventeen or maybe sixteen at a push.

"Elena! Wait up! You're a woman on a mission!" My trainers scuffed on the cobbled path up to the house we had just investigated. I didn't slow and I didn't call anything over my shoulder to acknowledge him. I was tired. Staying up and hunting ghosts through the night does that. It always does.

"Look Tyler, I'm tired. I just want to get some rest." Sliding into the passenger seat of the car, I rest my head against the window.

Behind me I see Matt frown, his blonde hair falling into his eyes. "Wow, Elena, you look beat," he watched me like a hawk, his grey eyes following my every move.

"That obvious?" I ask to no one in particular. Matt hums before turning back to the iPod in his hands. As Tyler jumps in I feel the car shake. We all tease him over his height, being only five foot five he's the smallest in Spectre. One time we even went as far as to buy him a step ladder. Now he just jumps in for the fun of it.

"Try not to shake the car!" My headache flares up as my head bangs lightly on the window. As much as I loved him, he really could be a pain sometimes. But I guess that's my fault. People always say to go out with a guy two years older than yourself, that way you're both on the same mental wave.

"You'll live," Tyler joked, before ducking down and reaching for the compartment on the side of the door. "Here, take these." He threw the packet of Nurofen at me. Popping one out, I swallowed it dry.

"Elena? How the hell could you swallow that thing without water?"

"Matt, once you've had as many headaches that I've had, then you'll know how." As I finished I felt the car roar to life before settling back down. To say it was a newish 09 model, a herd of elephants could be quieter. Tyler rolled the car lazily out of the woman's driveway and onto the road. Soon enough we were on our way back to Mystic Falls and away from the possibly haunted house.

As the road slipped away under the tyres, I thought of how we got here. Just three teenagers that started out in a graveyard nearly two years ago.

_Flashback - 11__th__ December 2008_

"_Guys come on, it'll be fun. Everyone does this sometime in their life. It's a rite of passage." Tyler held the heavy, black iron gates to the cemetery open. It was a derelict place and even though there was no sign, it clearly screamed at you to not enter. _

_Everyone had said that the place held history and activity. That in Civil War the soldiers had taken refuge here until a rogue enemies found them. All died. People had said that they could hear voices and the grunts of the dying. Even the pungent smell of blood. _

_A heavy silver chain glistered in the moonlight and kept the gates from opening. But with enough force the gates could be opened at least a foot before the chain actually did its job and stopped them. Behind me, I watched in disbelief as Matt slid past me and through the gates. _

"_You can wait in the car if you want. You don't have to come," Tyler stated before making a move to latch the gate shut again. _

"_No...I'll come. Just don't run crying to me when something goes bump in the night." I joke though inside my stomach is turning with turmoil. I've never been a graveyard person; to be honest I think they're always cold no matter the weather._

_The tall crumbling headstones stood out as black giants among the rolling hills on which the graveyard was situated. The old ruin of a small church sat, dilapidated, at the very top of the hill. Only one and half of its walls remained and part of the wood frame clung to one wall. One side of the hill went up a steep slope: the other side was a vertical drop. _

"_Tyler," Matt whispered, his grey eyes seeming to glow slightly in the dark. "Set your phone on recording. It'd be ace if we caught something." _

"_Right, it's set up." The glow from his phone vanished as he locked it. "So, are we just living here? Or are we gonna move?"_

_We walked through the dark graveyard with just the moon staring down at us. Many a time Matt jumped out from behind a tall gravestone attempting to scare us. It never worked. It was predictable really. _

"_Aw, come on guys! This place is probably crawling with ghosts and you're looking as glum as a wet weekend!" Matt's voice seemed ring out like a clock tower, silencing everything in its wake. Even the crickets that had previously started to chirp in the bushes nearby had quietened. _

_It was only a slight difference at first, only a slight smell. But I could smell it none the less. As the smell became more potent, I realised it smelt much like a butcher shop. Stale blood would fill the shop, making you order what you wanted and be straight back out. You didn't hang around. But that's what this smelt like; stale blood. _

_The blood that people had claimed they smelt._

"_Tyler I really don't think we should be in here." In front of me they turned, their figures just black murky blobs in the moonlight. "Can't you smell it? The blood?" The blood of the soldiers that died, I added to myself though it seemed to hover in the air anyway. _

"_No," Tyler shook his head. "Can you?" He gestured to Matt who shook his head quickly._

"_No I can't. You sure it's not just in your head?"_

"_Elena, go back to the car if you want. You don't have to come with us if you don't want to." Even though I wanted to leave them, something inside me told me to stay. That it could mean something. Shrugging off my paranoia, I followed them through the eerie graveyard. _

_Matt began the step ascend to the small church. Half of the moon could be seen though the gaps that once harboured glass. The nearer we got to the ruin, the harder I found it to shake off the feeling. Again I felt the tightening on my chest, though this time it was almost like hands were pushing me back, forcing me back down the hill. Almost warning me to stay away. _

"_Tyler!" Again Matt's voice echoed through the empty yard. I felt my neck crack as I snapped my head to the side to see Tyler collapse down. His hands clawed at the short stubby grass as he tumbled nearer to the sheer drop that occupied on side of the hill. _

_Matt was already running down the hill, Tyler's shouts directing him. Many a time he stumbled on his way down, but other than that he was swift, agile, easily leaping the smaller graves. As he ran, he ran with his head down, missing everything that was happening. _

_The thing that seemed to have being pushing Tyler had stopped, only to leave him rolling towards the sheer drop of the hillside. But where the drop started, the air began to shimmer. I watched - frozen to the spot - as the shimmers began to take more of a shape. _

_At first it was rectangular and of no specific shape. It began at the bottom of the rectangle, the pieces seem to just fall away, like someone cutting around a shape with a pair of scissors. With every cut of the scissors, colour was painted onto the free areas with a stroke of a brush. _

_Soon a pair of muddy - otherwise coal black boots - stood on the hillside. In quick succession, a pair of brown-green trousers with a matching blazer formed. The scissors cut away more of the black rectangle, adding more detail as they went, and the colours filled in automatically. _

_Then the clothes started to fill out. They got a shape, the build of a man. When his face started to appear, I knew I had seen him somewhere. His face. The uniform. The blood soaked medals that hung from a metal clip on his breast pocket. The museum. The one down town which was dedicated to the war and those who had died. But more so, to those who had died in the church battle. He was one of them._

_But he couldn't be. He was dead. He just appeared out of thin air. He was a ghost. _

_I was frozen to the spot, unable to move from pure shock. Even as Tyler still continued to roll to his death and Matt was running after him screaming like a Banshee. All I could do was watch. The officer tipped his cap to me, a friendly smile to his face. The more I stared - jaw slack - the more things I notice about him that solidifies what he is._

_Through him I could faintly make out the outline of the trees in the nearby woods and the worn and bloody __Lee Enfield SMLE's that hung diagonally over his back. _

_The soldier's smile widened when he saw Tyler clawing fruitlessly at the grass. He muttered something to himself, before securing his hand in Tyler's jumper. I watched, slightly amused, as Tyler's eyes widened when he came to an abrupt halt by the soldiers feet. _

"_Holy shite," his voice was a whisper, as he stared up into the soldier's friendly face. "Thanks?" he said meekly, while he looked to be questioning what he saw. _

_Matt wasn't in a better condition. His jaw opened and shut; a fish out of water. Hesitantly he skidded down to where Tyler and the soldier stood; always keeping his eyes on the rifle that was slung over the soldiers back. When he was near Tyler he hauled him over his back muttering a quick 'thanks' to the soldier. _

_A slight shimmer came from the soldier, and a moment later he was gone. Where he had stood I watched two things fall. Sliding down the hillside on my backside, I scooped up the two fallen objects. One was a medal, a golden cross with a ribbon of vertical strips of red and blue. The other was a smooth black stone. _

"_You arsehole! You could've being killed!" Matt and Tyler stood facing each other, their chests only inches away. _

"_Yeah, well, I wasn't! Not my fault I got shoved by something!"_

"_Well if it wasn't for that...that guy! Then you'd be dead!" Rolling my eyes at their immaturities, I pushed them away from each other. _

"_Guys! We saw an apparition and all you can do is argue? I mean, come on! How many people can say they saw a walking, talking ghost?" Instantly they shut up, but they didn't look at each other. "Look, you're alive. End of." Both of them huffed, though pressed their fist over their chest, and then put them together. _

_Glancing over my shoulder, I shrugged when I just saw darkness. Maybe it was all just a dream? But the medal and stone in my hand were real; they weren't fragments of a muddled imagination. _

"_Elena? What's that?" Matt's cold grey eyes were fixed on the medal that sparkled slightly-despite the decades old blood and mud-in the moonlight. "Let me see." His hand was already extended out, giving me no room to say no. When he plucked it from my hand, his fingers brushed mine slightly. Tyler, who had been watching the exchange, scrutinized Matt's every move, his face darkening when he saw our fingers touch._

_I don't know why. Matt and I were nothing more than friends and Tyler knew that. But it didn't stop him from coming and standing in the middle of us. _

"_Wow, this is one of the highest rankings a soldier could earn. Where did you find this? You don't think that the apparition dropped it...?" Matt trailed off, his hair falling in his eyes as he squinted through the limited moonlight. _

"_Are you coming? I want to get out of here. I don't fancy another near-death experience," stated Tyler before turning to leave. Stumbling over tombstones and tripping over our own feet, we eventually made it to the cemetery gates. Jumping into the SUV we all relaxed into the seats._

"_I noticed a rock in your hand, can I have a look?" asked Tyler, his eyes suddenly locked on the rock. _

"_Sure -"_

"_Dude! Check it! This is awesome!" Matt interrupted, a string of squeaks from the leather back seat following closely behind. "That guy was a General! I mean, that's the highest anyone could have ever got! General...Mikaelson," he said, slowly pronouncing the name while brushing dried mud and blood from the medal. "General Mikaelson," he repeated more fluently. "Wonder why he gave it to us?" _

_Shrugging, I extend my hand back as a gesture for him to put the medal in. "But why would he drop that rock as well?" _

_Matt stuck his lip out and made a face. "Beats me."_

"_Here guys. It's an agate stone. It makes it easier for spirits to manifest themselves or interact with the person who holds it. Some people even believe that it enables ghosts to channel energy into the person who holds it. I can't believe that the General just dropped this stuff." _

"_Tyler?" my voice sounded drab to my own ears as I yawned._

"_Yeah?"_

"_How the hell do you know that stuff?" Putting the keys in the ignition, I pulled the car out of the cemetery. _

"_You know how he is, Elena, always believes in the things that go bump in the night. You should see the amount of books he has on poltergeists and other ghosts." Matt teases; content when he sees Tyler rolling his eyes. _

"_What-ever!"_

_Flashback Over._

I still have the agate and the medal. For some reason I believe what Tyler said about the agate, so I carry it around everywhere I go. The medal I keep at home, tucked away in a small wooden box under the bed.

Even though Spectre has been investigating locations ever since then, we've never had anything quite so bad. The more we looked into it, the more we start to think that someone had done an Ouija board in the church. Not because we saw General Elijah Mikaelson, we found him name in the museum records, but because of the energies that pushed us and nearly sent Tyler to his death. Only demonic energies try to harm you or worse, kill you.

"Elena, earth to Elena." Sighing I pulled my head from the window, shocked to find that I had fallen asleep. As I turned I caught sight of my appearance. Small purple shadows nested under my heavy eyes. My brown hair was lank and lifeless, and my skin was far too pale. I looked like a zombie. I needed sleep. Badly.

Groggily I searched for Tyler despite him being sat next to me. "What?"

"Don't fall asleep on me; we're nearly home as it is. Only a few more minutes and we should be coming off the A75." He paused for a minute. "Wake the lump up as well, will you."

Sure enough Matt had practically passed out in the back seat. His legs were propped up on the black box that held the thermal camera and mini DVR - Digital Video Recorder.

"Matt! Wake up!" I shook his left arm that had fallen from the seat. "Come on, you sleep like the bloody dead." Again I shook his arm and the only response I got was for him to start snoring.

"Here, try him with this; just make sure the equipment's out of the way." Taking the bottle of water that Tyler had fished out of the compartment, I held it between my knees as I checked the equipment boxes. The only box in the back was the one he had his feet on, the rest we had managed to fit in the back. Well, Matt had while we showed the woman the evidence.

Unscrewing the lid, I poured a little into the cap. "I tried," I muttered to him, before throwing the little amount of water over him.

Instantly his eyes snap open and he begins wiping the water droplets off his face. "What the hell Elena?"

"What? We're coming into Mystic Falls now. We'll be passing your place in a few minutes."

Matt groaned. "Just take me to yours, I sleep on the couch." Was all he said before light snores filled the car once again.

"If he stopped snoring then someone would think we'd have a dead body in the back." Mumbled Tyler, as he took a right turn.

"Why don't we just go to HQ? It's not like we haven't done so before. I mean, we still have the camp beds from last time." HQ was just a small three roomed building we had built about six months back after we got donations from the town. It was simple, nothing special, but it was tucked away and quiet. To most people it looked like someone had just plonked it in the middle of a field because it was that deserted and quiet. Almost too quiet.

"True. I guess so, it can't hurt." He cocked his head to the side. "You do still want to date me, right?" He didn't look at me; instead he kept his gaze trained solely on the road in front.

"Tyler, look at me."

"I can't, I'm driving." To anyone else it would just seem as though he was joking, but I could hear the distrust in his voice.

"There's a lay-by coming up. Stop the car there."

Tyler made no move to slow the car down; instead I saw the needle on the speedometer get higher. "Sorry I can't, I've passed it."

Rolling my eyes I stared out of the window at the beach. "If you don't want to know, then that's fine with me." Suddenly the car swerved into the large grass parking lot next to Dhoon beach.

"Just tell me, Elena. I've...I've..." Tyler trailed off with a shake of his head.

"You've what?" I prompted softly. How could he think this after three years? He should know me better than that.

"I've seen the way that you act around him." Around who? The only guys I hang out with are Tyler and _Matt_. No, it can't be Matt. Tyler surely can't doubt his best friend on this. They've been friends for donkey's years. Surely he trusts me better than to think that I would run off with his best friend?

"You don't trust me. You don't trust us. It's Matt isn't it?" A short, humourless laugh escaped me. "You think I _like_ Matt?" Again I laugh, though this time I can't get myself to stop. I rock back and forth, one hand clutching my mid-section.

I watch his chagrined expression as he ran his teeth over his bottom lip. "Yeah," he said so quietly that I had to be sure that I had heard him right. Tyler turned his head away from me and looked out over the waves.

"You think that I _like_ Matt?" I scoffed and laughed again. "Ah, Tyler, Tyler. What will we do with you eh?" I watched as the tips of his ears went red with the force of his blush. "I'd rather go out with Jasper Carrot from school then Matt. Do you honestly think I'd end our relationship for him? Do you honestly think that I'd let myself get in the way of your friendship?"

"The way you act around him, it's just so carefree."

"Ah ah ah! Don't you dare go into jealous boyfriend mode!" He'd done it before. About two weeks after we had 'officially' started to date he went haywire on me. He wasn't abusive. It's just that he would slide in between me and the person I was talking to. Even if the person I was talking to was female. In the end we broke up for about a week, before trying it again. Luckily it worked.

Finally he turned to me, though he spoke to my chest rather than my face. "So, how about we get going before Matt slips into a coma?" At the end he lifted his large brown eyes to meet mine.

"Hang on." Pressing my lips to his for a quick kiss I felt the burning desire that usually accompanied it. Normally it was Tyler that moved in for a kiss, so I took him for surprise when I started it first. Soon though he unfroze and started to respond. I could almost feel the doubts that had knotted up inside him unravel. "Now we can go." I said as I broke away. "I don't fancy a trip to the A&E with a man in a coma."

"Matt! Wake up dude!" Was the last thing I heard before I began taking the smaller boxes of equipment from the SUV. Pushing open the door, I left the equipment in the doorway as I went to get more.

"Tyler?"

"Yes, Matt?"

"I'm nineteen! I need my sleep!" Sighing as I went to collect more equipment, I did the 'keep-your-mouth-shut' sign to Tyler. Tiredness and Matt really didn't go down well at all. Sometimes I think about just leaving him locked in the car overnight so we don't have to wake him.

"Matt, shut up." He turned to face me; his expression guilt. "I'm eighteen, Tyler's nineteen and your nineteen. We all need our sleep. Now the quicker we get this stuff inside, the quicker we can all be dead to the world." Matt hummed and huffed at the same time, though reached for the largest box which held the infrared cameras.

Half an hour later, the SUV was unloaded and Tyler was locking the doors. "Well, that was good. At least we left with a few bits of evidence," he said as he joined me and Matt in the main room. Handing the discs to Matt, he slotted them into the CD racks that held all our evidence to the paranormal.

"Do you guys want to set the back room up? The camp beds should be there from last time." Both of them nodded and went to the back room. Switching on the ancient computer, I drummed my fingers on the rickety desk as it whirled to life noisily. As I waited, I glanced around the small room. Apart from the wall that supported the large patio doors with the green letters 'SPECTRE' written on, the rest of the room was camouflaged with fan-mail.

Tyler had his own section dedicated to the amount of 'sympathy' mail we got when he broke his ankle on one of the previous investigations. Matt had given him a foot-up when they found a loose tile in the ceiling of a house we were investigating, when he slipped and fell on his ankle. As it turns out, the owners of the house had made it hoax; trying to test whether we actually tried to find out the source behind it all. In the end we left with no evidence and in the back of an ambulance.

Pulling the agate stone out of my pocket I placed it on the desk. How could such a small gemstone be able to contact the paranormal? Well, not contact the paranormal, but _help_ them contact us?

The computer beeped as the page loaded up. The desktop picture was one of when we first started out. It was Matt's seventeenth birthday, so Tyler and I were sixteen. We'd done a special for him and went to the one place he'd always wanted to go. In the end we left a trunk load of evidence which we were pleased with. It was snowing on his birthday, so we were all wrapped up to the eyeballs in coats and scarves. The SUV was behind us, with the crisp, snowy mountains in the background.

Clicking the internet up, I waited until I could log into Spectre's email account. When we first started out, we just had one email address though that soon changed. The fan mail started to override the cases and it took hours to search through and read every single one. So now we have two mail accounts: one for cases and the other for fan mail.

Logging onto the 'cases', I scrolled through the emails for something that looked interesting. They all got read, it's just we would look for ones that held our interest or had family involved. The rest - like museums - could wait that bit longer, so long as the haunting wasn't doing anything to harm anyone.

I stopped midway down the page, one email catching my eye.

To: ghspectre .uk

From: jacksonuk

Sent: 7/10/10 17:49

RE: Possible Ghost Sinking Ships

Dear Spectre,

We have been forced to contact you due to the excessive amount of shipwrecks, and damage to boats when going over a certain square mile in the Atlantic Ocean. This has been on all occasions, and though no one has got hurt so far, we don't wish to take the chance. Reports have said that all activity starts once the ship or boat has entered that specific area of water, and once the boat has left that area, then the activity stops. There have been claims of hearing voices, to full bodied apparitions.

The area holds a large amount of history due to a shipwreck that happened in November of 1907 when a malfunction in the ship forced it to sink. Since then there have been reports of a couple of ghosts seen wondering the ships that enter the area. As mentioned above, if the ships are lucky enough to come out unharmed, once they leave that area all voices and apparitions' disappear.

As we are desperately in need of your help, we will pay for all travel expenses for you to be able to come ASAP. Please contact us at jacksonuk .

Yours sincerely,

J Jackson.

It was a different case, and it would prove to be difficult. Many of the noises heard could be put down to the waves or wind, and apparitions could just be shadows cast by the sunlight. Not to mention the reflective surfaces of the ship would make the thermal camera near useless because our body heat would reflect itself.

Moving the email to another folder, I logged off. The only thing wrong with this little hidey hole was that there was no shower. After all, we didn't plan to be spending the nights over in here when we got the planning permission. I'd just have to make do with a quick sponge bath and get a shower tomorrow morning when I go home.

Grabbing the supplies I kept under the desk for days like this, I made my way over to the small bathroom. "Nobody come in!" I hollered out, though got no reply. There were only three rooms here, and that consisted of a small half bathroom, the main room where the computers lived, and the back room which normally harboured the equipment. Only today the three of us would be in there.

"You don't know how to put a camp bed up?"

"I'm not like you, I like to be at home. Not like some rabid dog in the wilderness."

"Even so, this thing practically makes itself."

As I walked into the room, I saw Tyler standing to one side while Matt had a fight with the camp bed. "There," Matt said after a breathless five minute wrestling match with the bed. "Not that hard."

"Why didn't you let Tyler help you?" I asked, pretending that I hadn't heard their previous conversation.

"Cause Tyler doesn't know how to put up a camp bed." Sighing, I unravelled the three sleeping bags that they must have gotten out before they started. Tyler huffed at his comment though wondered over to two of the camp beds. Pushing one next to the other, he gestured for me to get in. Pulling the sleeping bag over me, I suddenly felt a lot warmer when Tyler huddled in behind me.

"Die the lights Matt." On cue the lights cut out, but not before Matt got his say.

"I'm a light sleeper, so no hanky panky."

**Hey up! Hope you still enjoy Walk by Me! Sorry, Damon wasn't in this chapter but he will be in the next one! Thanks for all reviews, and if you have any questions, please put them in your review! I'd love to know what you thought of this chapter, so please review!**

**The Nutty One xx**


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